


The Path Forward

by Zoisite Ruby (andadobeslabs)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Love Confessions, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 12:59:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11852085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andadobeslabs/pseuds/Zoisite%20Ruby
Summary: Alisaie suffered many wounds at the hands of Fordola in Castrum Abania, her physical one the least of her worries.Takes place during MSQ "Upon the Great Loch's Shore"





	The Path Forward

**Author's Note:**

> I am shocked that I'm the first person to write this ship. Maybe that should be a sign, but here it is anyway. I'm operating under the assumption that the twins are at least 19 during the events of Stormblood, seeing as how at least 3 years have to have passed between ARR and now in game. I'm also going with the lore that Urianger does not age and is permanently 23 because of magic. Also, I quoted and modified a poem which is not my own, by poet Anne Bradstreet.

_Lyse presses forward, attempting to hit Fordola again, but the Skull is faster than her. Fordola dodges the attack, leaving Lyse breathless and undeterred despite the outcome of their battle looking grim for the resistance._

_Alisaie, meanwhile, takes Lyse’s pause as her cue to join in the fight. But while she merely attempts to trap Fordola so that Lyse can strike, before she even knows what’s happening, Fordola cuts her down. Alisaie can’t even react before she’s on the ground, bleeding._

_She can hear the commotion around her, but her consciousness fades. She’s somewhat aware of her brother calling her name, but she’s sure this is the end. At least if this is how she was going to go, it would be fighting for Eorzea as her grandfather had._

She wakes up with a gasp and grips the sheets beneath her to ground herself. She inhales deeply as her eyes pop open, aware that the Elezen staying by her side stirs from his usual position sleeping on the floor next to her cot, and stands quickly to check on her.

“I’m sorry to wake you, Urianger.” She apologizes and sits up, hissing at the pain in her side from her injury. It could have been worse. A lot worse.

“Is aught amiss, my lady?” He asks, sitting at her feet without an invitation. She attempts to be stoic, tries to purge the memory of falling to the ground and hearing the fear in Alphinaud and the Warrior of Light's voices. But she deceives herself, and soon she’s sobbing out of fear.

Urianger takes her breakdown as permission to move closer, and she doesn’t protest. She presses her face into his shoulder. She tries to express her gratitude, but when she opens her mouth, nothing comes out but wheezing. He notices this, but just wraps his arm around her back and pulls her in tighter as she cries into his embrace.

“No need.” He reassures her, and her breathing returns gradually to normal. Urianger usually says something wordy, poetic and cryptic. But he spoke plainly around her in times like this, when the utility of communication outweighed the art of finding the exact right thing to say. She appreciates it.

She needs to remember that she is alive, and his mere presence reassures her of this. She feels the heat and aether radiate off of him, the warmth of being alive himself, and her panic starts to subside. She notices as she pulls her face away from his shoulder that he is not wearing his usual garb, his eyes fully visible and the worry in them apparent. She wonders if he is aware of it. Despite, or maybe because his eyes were so often hidden, she is taken aback by how full of emotion they are. Before she ponders this further, she realizes she is staring and looks away, her face reddening.

“My apologies.” She mumbles under her breath, still refusing to make eye contact, but also refusing quite to let go of his embrace. She feels his hand, the one that had been rubbing circles gently on her back, travel to the side of her face where he nudges her, to face him again.

“You are safe here.” He reassures her and she closes her eyes while she nods. When she opens them again, his gaze is almost too much to bear. She becomes aware suddenly that Urianger is much more handsome than she remembers, given that he usually went to great lengths to hide his face. The intimacy of their position, his hand still on her chin and face so close to hers that she could feel his breath on her neck, makes her stomach stir uncomfortably and her heart beats faster every time she exhales.

It was Urianger who stayed by her side while she was injured, who crafted her a custom rapier so she wouldn’t exhaust her aether in battle. It was Urianger who saw her as an individual, separate from her brother, different from her grandfather, and capable of her own thoughts and actions. She doesn’t know why it took her so long to grasp how much that truly meant to her until just now.

It feels like moons have passed before she finds herself leaning closer towards him. While she was an adult and almost at her final height, she was still unusually short for an Elezen woman, and the height difference between the two of them was more noticeable than ever before.

It is he who closes the gap, their lips touching briefly. Electricity spreads through Alisaie's entire body, starting at her lips and exiting at the tips of her toes. The kiss ends as quickly as it began, and she finds herself bringing her fingers to her lips just to make sure the sensation was still her own. Guilt washes over his features immediately, and he lets go of her as if she hurt to touch. She attempts to grab his hand with hers but he pulls away, and she feels like he's pushed her from the top of the tallest cliff in Gyr Abania.

“Tis my turn to apologize, my lady.” He finally says, and she starts to shake her head. “I’m afraid I may have gotten carried away.”

“Don’t apologize.” She says firmly, with a determination she had briefly lost. This time it’s her turn to grab his jaw and force him to face her, though much less delicately than he had done. He looks away, refusing to look directly at her all the same. “You don’t get to do something like that and then apologize for it.”

If she hadn’t exhausted all of her tears earlier, her eyes might have gotten misty again. The sadness and confusion on Urianger's face are painful to her. She wants nothing more than to kiss his feelings away, but there is too much distance between them now, and without his cooperation, she cannot reach his lips with her own.

“Tis a dangerous path we’re approaching, which only gets more perilous as you insist we travel forward.” He states darkly, and she shakes her head fervently.

“I am not some weak maiden needing protection.” She protests, ignoring the burning pain in her wound as she adjusts herself to look more directly at him. “I know full well what I am doing. You cannot hurt me.”

“You are not the one in danger, my lady.” His eyes lock with hers, hoping that she can read his mind to spare him the embarrassment of explaining himself, and she nods.

“I have no intention of hurting you either.” She traces the outline of his tattoo, which identifies him as an Archon, her late grandfather's student, with her fingertips and looks back at him with all of the affection she can offer. So much affection it feels like her very aether is pouring out of her and into him with every moment that passes.

They kiss again, this time with more curiosity and less shyness. Alisaie's fingertips slide from their place on Urianger's jaw, down his neck, and to his shoulder where she grips his collar and pulls him closer. He holds her, one hand on the back of her neck and the other stabilizing her lower back as he leans over her just slightly. Her fingers and toes go numb, followed by her hands and feet, and suddenly her limbs themselves are naught but projections of flesh and only the cherished places where his hands make contact are even truly a part of her anymore.

He pulls away, looking to her for permission to continue, which she returns with a whimper, missing their closeness. “Do you love me, Urianger?” She whispers, elongating his name, to which he kisses her forehead.

“More than whole mines of gold, more than all the riches Ul’dah doth hold.” She giggles at this, and he kisses her again, more forcefully. She allows his tongue to explore her mouth, relatively passively until she acclimates to his rhythm and follows in kind. “I would ask the same, but I fear your response.” He suggests when he breaks for air, and she pauses to think.

“I think I do, though I lack the talent with words to express it so eloquently.” She admits, and they kiss again, briefly this time, as he kisses next to her mouth as well, and then trails kisses down the side of her face, to her neck, which causes a noise to escape her that she typically reserved for her bed chambers in the dark of night.

Their lack of privacy becomes very evident to her then, the curtains separating them from the other patients in the infirmary of Rhalgr’s Reach hardly a private inn room in which they could do whatever they pleased. As much as it pains her to deny herself what she so desperately craves, she shrugs away from his lips on her neck and looks at him, both of their faces bright red and their bodies radiating heat and humidity.

“I suppose we should wait to continue this until you are hale and whole,” Urianger observes, and she nods.

“And we are more than yalms away from injured resistance soldiers.” She adds, and he kisses her again on the lips, and then the forehead.

“Until then, you should rest, my lady.” She worries that he intends to leave her there and return to his place on the floor, but instead, he simply walks around the cot and climbs behind her, the front of him pressed against her back. She pulls his hand over her side and holds it tightly against her before she starts to drift back to sleep.

No matter what lay beyond the threshold of consciousness, she knew she wouldn’t have to face it alone.


End file.
